


Tears of Morning

by phoenixjustice



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, mentions of Dean/Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 03:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2295389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixjustice/pseuds/phoenixjustice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean/Castiel, S4, after the ep where Sam meets Castiel for the first<br/>time.</p><p>"I understand how you feel, Dean. I truly do. I felt it when I shook his hand; why else do you think I hesitated?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tears of Morning

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"I never asked for any of this. /None/. Why does it have to be me? Why  
am /I /so goddamn special? Hell, if anything, /Sam /would be the one to  
go to."

The man across from him doesn't speak, perhaps he was peeved at Dean's  
'blasphemous' words? Who the hell knew /anything /that was going on  
anymore...

"Damnit, Cass, /answer m--/"

The sudden press of Castiel's lips against his was both a mixture of  
surprise as well as the most overwhelming feeling that he couldn't even  
begin to describe in words. Sam was the go-to guy for that sort of sappy  
crap, not him, but /this/--!

He pulls back, unable to keep shock from overtaking his face. Castiel's  
face looked solemn, as it most always did, as he sits back onto the  
other bed, except for a strange gleam in his eyes, but Dean could have  
been imagining that...

"I'm sorry, Dean, truly I am." Castiel said softly. "I...do not know all  
the reason for your questions, or most of them anyway. And Samuel  
is.../tainted/. He was tainted in the cradle by Ezekiel and even if he  
hadn't been...it wouldn't have mattered. It would have always been you  
who was chosen, not your brother."

He could still feel the pressure of Castiel's lips against his, that  
strange feeling inside of him, as he sat on the hard mattress of the  
motel room that he and Sam had gotten, a day or so after dealing with  
Samhain and all of that. The smell of sex could still be smelt, even  
though Sam had been gone for hours now and he had taken a shower. He  
wondered if the whole 'smiting' thing still applied to him, even with as  
'important' as he supposedly was...

"You're free to take whatever pleasures you want, Dean; you have free  
will. Though it being your brother--"

He glances up at Castiel's face, glaring at him. "Get the hell out of my  
head. Don't you /dare /condemn me for that. No...condemn me if you want,  
but I will /never /be sorry that I love Sam--"

"Even if you sometimes feel shame about it? Not able to look down into  
his face--"

He stands up, fists clenched. "You don't know what the hell you're  
talking about."

Castiel stands up from the other bed and looks into his face, eyes  
flashing with emotion so strongly that Dean couldn't help but be  
reminded that behind the cool facade the man put up, he was an /angel/,  
and he had best not forget that.

"I don't? I know /exactly /what I am talking about, and you know it. You  
can't help the shame you feel. Not because he is your brother, but  
because sometimes you can feel that taint too, can't you? Feel it like a  
poison against your skin when he touches you, when you take him. And  
then you feel even more shame because you feel that way sometimes, and  
you can't help yourself." Castiel's face suddenly softens. "I understand  
how you feel, Dean. I truly do. I felt it when I shook his hand; why  
else do you think I hesitated? It's bad enough being even /around /him  
and I fear that you will soon feel that way too, as I do..."

"I wouldn't--"

"But you /can/. You /might/. Because of me. You and I are connected,  
Dean. That bond that led me to pull you out of Hell as easily as anyone  
ever has. That mark," he gestures to Dean's covered up shoulder where  
Castiel's handprint laid underneath. "Is proof enough of it. It could  
have even started before I pulled you out of Hell; I'm not sure."

"What are you saying? Like you pulled some psychic mumbo-jumbo and poof,  
I feel what you feel?" He asked sarcastically. "A /bond/? I mean, come  
on, I've seen some pretty weird shit in my time, but this? If it was  
real, we could make it a t.v show. 'Bonded by an Angel'. Sounds kinky."  
he snorts, crossing his arms, refusing to show any emotion, refusing to  
admit that he felt a reaction in him when Castiel said the word 'bond'.  
That kind of crap was for romance novels and Lifetime movies of the  
week; the kind of stuff that didn't belong anywhere in Dean's world.

Castiel takes a step forward and Dean has to keep himself from taking a  
step back...or forward.

"I didn't do anything to you. All I did was...watch you," Castiel  
admitted. And suddenly Dean found himself the one looking while Castiel  
looked away. "I watched you for so long. I...I didn't know that /I  
/would be the one to be in this position and that I would be the one to  
raise you from Hell. But I was asked by Him and I sometimes wonder if he  
knew my intent was so strong before I ever had an inkling of it."

"Castiel--" He stops, unsure of what to say, or if he could even think  
of anything. His heart clenched in his chest and he felt like the whole  
world had disappeared around him, and all he could see was the angel in  
front of him. "I...thought all of that, uh, 'touchy-feely' stuff was  
forbidden..." He was no good at this shit, this emotion; give him a  
busty blonde and he could make the right moves, get her into bed easy as  
pie, or hell, even Sam, but this was...

And just like that, after he spoke, Castiel's eyes lock onto his and he  
holds back a shudder.

"I am a different part of the usual angels; I was given free will. I was  
not forbidden from anything." He takes another step forward, bridging  
the last gap between them. "Least of all from you." He takes a hand and  
moves it down the side of Dean's face, making him gasp, eyes looking at  
him curiously as he does so.

He looks into Dean's eyes, seeming to hear Dean's thoughts once more.  
"...the body I am using? I think you misunderstood what I said. I /was  
/given a body freely by a man, but the face you are looking at is  
/mine/. Not many angels choose to do this, but I...I wanted you to see  
/me /and not a face that I was using, but was not mine."

"But /why/?" Dean asked desperately, unable this time to hold back a  
shudder as Castiel's hands pull off his jacket with ease, pulling his  
shirt off with the same ease. "Why /me/? I don't /deserve /it. You said  
it yourself; I fuck up (and I have /many/ times) and you pull me back  
into Hell, not--"

Castiel shakes his head. "I was just angry and did not hold my tongue. I  
would /never/ willingly put you back into that place. You're place is  
/here/; you're destined to do many great things. Dean," his hand wavers  
by the brand he had left on Dean's shoulder. "You are /more /than  
deserving and you /have /to know why; you feel it every time you touch  
my brand, don't you?"

Dean shakes his head weakly in denial, refusing to admit that he felt  
/anything /the times he sometimes would touch the mark. He lets out a  
shaky sob when Castiel touches the brand, feeling the small feeling  
inside himself magnified suddenly a thousandfold and he shudders into  
Castiel's touch, his mouth when he kisses him, coming and coming from  
that alone, such pleasure he had never felt in his life, unable to stop  
the shaking in the afterglow from the pleasure that seemed to never end,  
wrapped up in the angel's embrace.

"Tell me, Dean." Castiel's voice whispered in his ear. "Tell me /now/."

His eyes open and his voice was full of emotion, choking on it when he  
says the words--

"I love you, too."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~


End file.
